


my imagination's running wild

by manchestereye (orphan_account), philsbigduck



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, Mind Reading
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 05:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,867
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20384662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/manchestereye, https://archiveofourown.org/users/philsbigduck/pseuds/philsbigduck
Summary: dan's gift is a blessing and a curse





	my imagination's running wild

**Author's Note:**

> written for the phanfictionevents telephone! i enjoyed writing the last part of the fic, i hope i did it well. (the other collaborators will be added once the teams are revealed!)
> 
> title: hallucinations by pvris

No, no, no. I am the mature one here. It would just be so easy to jump deep inside this deviant’s mind and expose his deepest secrets. His most embarrassing memories and deep thoughts no one knows about. But I won’t! Hurt people, or whatever my mom taught me in second grade. “Oh, Dan, sweetie, he is probably being bullied at home! Be nice!”

It’s not even like I can report anything even if I wanted to. He isn’t really bullying me. He’s not even mean. He’s just...teases me. I honestly don’t even understand how he does it. He just is always messing with my stuff. I throw out a paper and all my pencils and books are on the floor when I return to my seat. I go to sit down, and my seat gets pulled way further back and I fall on my ass. I don’t know how or why. And it would just be so easy to jump into his head and understand why. I was never mean to him. I never even looked at him in the three years I’ve been stuck in this hellhole. He doesn’t do it to anyone else. I wish I just knew why.

~

It all started when I was ten. My dad played chess with my brother and I wanted in on the fun. I began going to chess lessons, but it didn’t take long for me to pick the game up. My dad, the students, the teachers, all were baffled as to how this was possible. I was beating even the highest rated players in my class after a few weeks. My teachers recommended I go to competitions where there were prizes.

I began attending competitions every weekend. And it soon became boring because I kept beating any opponent I was given. I kept winning huge prizes, especially money. I made it to nationals, but I was disqualified. They accused me of cheating. No one was able to figure out how, but I was doing every right move in seconds. So they just assumed I had to be cheating.

I didn’t understand why I was so good at chess. I couldn’t explain it. It was as if I was able to...read my opponent’s mind.

Things moved fast after this. It went from playing chess to getting all A’s because I knew the answer before the teacher would answer. It came into play with my relationships. By the time I was 12, my friends began dropping like flies. No one liked being around me. I was always finishing sentences. People accused me of being a ‘stalker’ because I knew all their secrets.

I realized I needed to stop using whatever this was. It was hard because this thing became second nature to me. It felt like a voice telling me everything about everyone around me. The power was too overwhelming. So I stopped. I put up a psychological wall. There’s always this voice whispering, but I just chose to push it down. I won’t let this thing ruin me.

~

I felt his presence behind me. He was always behind me, I never knew why. Though I never delved into his head, I always knew when he’s around. He had a specific kind of...sound is how to put it simply.

“Lester, please, I just want carry my books in peace.”

For a moment, everything was okay, but that was short lived as I felt myself tripping over an invisible string. I refused to drop these books one more fucking time. I unconsciously gripped the books, only realizing my mistake as I crashed to the ground, books still flying everywhere.

A lighting bolt of pain shot throughout my right arm. I could feel my lanky bones crack like a stick.

“Motherfucker,” my curse echoed in the halls. I was beyond thankful school let out about an hour ago. I tried to pull myself back up, but only to collapse again.

“Shit, Dan, are you okay?” I heard a voice call out. It sounded like...Phil’s. No. No way. I cant deal with this right now. Maybe I hit my head and I was imagining his soft hand guiding me into a sitting position. I imagined him gathering my books, and putting them in a neat pile as he muttered “fuck” like a chant.

“L-Lester,” I pushed out, “is that you?”

“Shit, I’m so sorry Dan. I didn’t mean for you to fall that much usually I’m able to catch you but I got distracted and-“

“What do you mean catch me?” I grumbled.

“I-I, uh, I don’t know what I’m saying, here, let me help you up.” I blindly grabbed for his hands until I finally began seeing with a clear vision. His bright eyes dark with worry. Now I was sure I had hit my head and was dreaming. I turned my head and saw Phil, with shaky hands, gathering all my books, zipping my back bag up, and throwing it over his shoulder.

“I have my car parked right outside. Let me drop you off at the hospital or something. Fuck, I can’t believe I didn’t catch you.”

There was that fucking word again.

“What do you mean catch!” He flinches a bit as I say this loudly. My efforts were futile as he didn’t stay anything, only looking down at the floor. I felt his hand lightly resting around my waist, but it felt as if there was much more supporting me. I could feel my cheeks rise in color as I registered Phil had his arm around me as a boyfriend would.

We walked in silence until I gathered the courage to clear my throat and, “why do you do it, Phil?”

He opened his mouth as to respond, but quickly snapped shut. He seemed pensive for a moment before saying quietly, “I admire you, Howell. You’re different. No matter how much of an asshole I am, you still remain...soft.” I saw his cheeks gather some color as he continued with, “I-I am different. And not in the way a twelve-year-old girl says as she puts blue eyeshadow on. I’m different in a way I can’t and I won’t explain.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of this, especially since that little voice in my head quickly rose up. I suddenly felt butterflies in my stomach. I looked over to Phil, no this couldn’t be his mind.

“Dan,” I snapped my head up to meet his eyes, “I know I’m a dick. And whatever you think about me is probably wrong...no offense.” He muttered.

“Well, what the fuck do I do with that,” attempting to throw my hands up in frustration before I felt some invisible arms grab my hand and yank my arm down.

“Shit,” I hissed.

I didn’t know what I was missing. I liked how everything was before. I just wanted him to continue to poke my neck with his pen and would close my locker every time I opened it. There was puzzle and I was missing the pieces that would make the picture clear.

“Keep your arm still,” he said softly. We reached the parking lot and he pointed to an old, red, rusty, dented car and said, “that’s my car. Let’s get you some help.”

~

The ride to the hospital was uneventful, as no words were spoken between the two of us. Other than being utterly confused, there was also the issue of the splitting pain in my arm that was clouding my head.

Lester looked worried, but I didn't want to read into that. I just wanted this all to be over, and to be able to go back to my house and fall asleep. I wasn't in the mood for thinking, because suddenly there was too many questions and I couldn't keep up.

What the Hell did he mean by "I usually catch you"?

~

I was anxious, waiting in the hospital alone. Lester had dropped me off, gave me a worried smile and drove away. He seemed like he was torn on the inside, not knowing whether he wants to stay or get as far away as possible. I'm glad he chose the latter- I didn't resent him, but it definitely helped to not be in his vicinity. I could delay all my questions and ponder them later, in the dark.

Mum came to pick me up- my arm wasn't broken, just badly sprained. I still had to wear a cast, but I was thankful I didn't need surgery or anything like that. Her frown was apparent immediately upon arrival, and the string of questions slipped out of her month as we walked the distance from the hospital to the car.

"What happened? Did someone do this to you? Did you fall? How did you even get here? Does Dad know?", she muttered, mostly to herself, opening the car door and ushering me in.

"I tripped," I said. Simple as that. As if it was.

"And what, walked all the way over here with a sprained arm?" she inquired. She didn't sound like she didn't believe it- she said it like it was a completely plausible scenario for me, which it was.

"No, Mum, I'm not crazy," I said, rolling my eyes. "Um, a friend dropped me off."

I don't know why I didn't want to tell her who it was. I was just so tired. Besides, how would I even explain why he wanted to help me? Hell, I didn't even know it myself.

Moments like these, I wish I hadn't stopped using my power. But using it again would feel like a relapse- I've been doing well without it for some time, anyway. I couldn't afford to be a freak again, even though I wasn't that far from it now.

She looked sceptical, as if she was thinking "but Bear, you don't have any friends". She would, of course, be right, but she just pursed her lips, nodded and started the car. The only distraction the ride home offered was a slow and steady beat of a song on the radio.

~

A couple of days passed by very quickly. I was allowed to stay home for a few days because of the injury. My parents had questions, but mostly I would shrug and say I'm tired, going up to my room to listen to music or just lounge around.

This morning was different, as I was finally going to attend classes again. I was mindlessly chewing on some pancakes, mentally preparing myself for returning to school. Just because I didn't particularly have any friends didn't mean people weren't going to stare and ask.

Worst of all, I didn't think I could face Lester. I had so many questions I wanted to ask him, and a burning desire to dig through his brain and find out what exactly it is he wants from me.

~

School was kind of how I expected it to go. People did stare and ask questions about my arm. I didn’t answer them though.

I saw Lester at lunch. There was that weird feeling again. He approached me and tried to say something, but I interrupted him.

“If you touch me right now, I’ll have no problem breaking your arm to match mine.” I said, with a menacing tone. His expression changed. 

“I-I was just going to ask if you were okay. I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry I didn’t catch you.”

I got angry again. What the fuck was he trying to get at, why the fuck would he try to “catch” me? For all I know, he’s the one that’s been making me fall on my ass all the time. He’s been teasing me for years now, and just me specifically. 

I suppose it’s because of how weird I acted in middle school, knowing the answer to everything. But people don’t even talk about that anymore, they just look at me and give me a disgusting look or ignore me. 

I wish he would just leave me alone, but at the same time, I don’t. It’s confusing. I also know that he definitely won’t leave me alone. I also wish I knew why he was messing with me, but I swore I wouldn’t read anyone’s minds anymore. It was wrong, and invasive. It’s a curse, and it made me a freak to society. Besides, it probably wouldn’t be worth it. He’s probably just a prick that gets off on picking on me specifically. But I know deep down, he probably isn’t. Especially not after what he said before. I believe him when he says that he’s different, I don’t know why or how to explain it. 

“Fuck off, okay?” I yelled back at him. I slung my backpack over my shoulder and walked past him, going to the spot where I normally eat my lunch. He didn’t dare follow me.

~

I walked home in the rain that evening. Phil tried to approach me again, but I just walked faster and ignored him. My mum was asking why I didn’t just call her, but I told her I wasn’t really thinking about it. 

I just wanted to forget about Lester, because I shouldn’t be thinking about him. I couldn’t get close to him. 

I wondered about that strange feeling I get around him. I know it’s not me reading his mind, because I stopped doing that and it has a distinct and different feeling.

It dawns on me that it could possibly be a crush. Why would I be thinking about Lester this much anyways? Even people I hate, I don’t think about them at all. 

Well shit, I’m screwed if this really is a crush. 

~

During the classes I have with him, something changes. He doesn’t really mess with my things anymore. Lester doesn’t even bother to even say anything. I do catch him staring at me though. He usually just turns around and gets back to working.

There’s a partner project being assigned, and I just stay in my seat while everyone else picks their partners. My teachers pity me, and just let me work on the project alone. It takes me twice as long, but I still manage to get the work done. 

However, this time Lester approaches my desk. He’s holding poster paper and some scissors. 

“Will you work with me please?” He asks. He normally pairs with PJ in this class, and I look around to see if he’s there. He isn’t, so I’m assuming that’s the only reason why Lester is pairing up with me.

I don’t want to talk to him right now, but I would feel rude if I said no. So I hesitantly agree. Plus, I have a broken arm so it wouldn’t hurt to actually have a partner for once.

We don’t really talk much, other than stuff about the project. There’s awkward silences where Lester starts to say something but drops it. 

_ “The fuck are you trying to say to me, Lester?! If you wanna say it, just say it to me, you asshole!”  _ I think.

“I’m sorry, okay? I know you hate me, but I promise I’m not trying to be an asshole on purpose! And stop calling me Lester!” Phil suddenly snaps. 

And that’s when I figure out that he’s a mind reader just like me. That’s what he meant that he’s different. 

Phil’s face suddenly turns into a horrified expression. “Shit, Dan, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell at you like that.” 

He drops the scissors in his hand, and starts crying. I don’t really know how to comfort him, so I just rub his back a little bit, project be damned.

The bell rings and he awkwardly puts our project away before leaving.

~

When I leave the building that day, I don’t ignore Phil like I normally do. I go up to him and ask him if he’s alright.

“I guess I’m alright. Sorry you had to see me like that earlier.” Phil shrugs.

“We all have our moments, I guess.”

As I tell him goodbye and turn around to walk home, he stops me.

“Wait, before you go, I, uh,” He stops for a moment. “I’m a mind reader just like you.”

“I knew that already, from earlier. You knew exactly what I was thinking. But what’s that about “catching” me and trying to mess with my things?” I ask.

Phil sighs. “Well, when I found out about you back in middle school I started thinking about you a lot and wanted to get your attention. Doesn’t really excuse me being a dick, but yeah. And I wanted to catch you whenever my mean pranks made you fall just to impress you. Because, I like you.”

I’m stunned. Wow, Phil likes me. Me, of all people.

“I’m trying to block your thoughts out, please tell me what you’re thinking.” Phil says.

I smile at him. Maybe I’m supposed to be offended that he tried to be mean to me just to grab my attention, but I don’t really care anymore, because  _ he likes me _ . 

“I’m thinking, that maybe we should go on a date.”

“That sounds like a good idea.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you!
> 
> tumblrs: philsbigduck, yvvnggod, and sudden-sky (mine)


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